I couldn’t wait to hear from my middle son after his first
day in boarding school. We had installed
him in his dorm at Taejon Christian International School over the weekend, and
I was anxious to learn how he was adjusting.
This is a verbatim transcript of our phone conversation:

I was no wiser after we hung up than I had been before he
called. In retrospect, I’m not sure why I
had expected more effusive communication from an 8th grade boy.

This conversation with my son illustrates an important
principle of communication, especially for writers: Choose strong words packed with meaning. Take my son’s term of choice, for instance. We use “fine” to describe lots of things –
fine art, fine dining, fine print, feeling fine. (You can fill in others.) But how can we gauge the quality of “fineness”
in different situations? The word by
itself just doesn’t give us much information.

A good writer chooses words that punch. We don’t tell readers what characters are feeling – we show them. Look at this example. What do you think I mean if I say I had a nice time at the party? What information does that give you? How would your understanding change if I said, “I laughed so much my ribs are still hurting,” or “I became so engrossed in conversation that I lost track of time,” or “I never knew that Karaoke could be such fun.” Do you see how the image in your mind changes with each description?

Let’s try another one.
What can we do with, “This cake tastes good.” How good is it?

a. My stomach cried “Stop!”
but my mouth begged for more.

b. I wanted to throw
away my fork and plant my whole face in it.

c. It tasted so like
Grandmother’s that I had to wipe away tears.

You get the idea.
Writers know what pictures they have in their own heads, but readers can’t
see past the page. If we want our
readers to see the same images that fill our minds, we must paint the pictures
in words. Don’t tell the reader that a
woman is frightened. Show the reader her pounding heart,
sweaty palms, shallow breathing, and how she gasps at every unexpected
noise. Instead of noting that a man is
angry, describe his scowl, his clenched fists, his narrowed eyes and red
face. Readers are not stupid. Let them figure out for themselves what’s
going on inside a character’s heart and head by describing what the person
does.

Let’s Practice

Here are some weak sentences. Practice rewriting them to create specific
images:

1. I feel cold.

2. I liked the movie.

3. I’m tired after
cleaning the garage.

4. The homework was
hard.

5. I’m hungry.

6. My brother made me
mad.

7. He worked hard on
the project.

8. She didn’t like
getting up early every morning.

9. It’s hot this
summer.

10. The sunset is
pretty.

I’d enjoy reading some of your rewrites. If you don’t mind others seeing your work,
share them in the Comments section. Happy
writing!